


The Master Sword Has Many Uses...

by SarcasticMudkip



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, Kinda, don't take it too seriously is what im saying here, eehhhh not really, in which i spend too much time describing food because yum, is this a crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcasticMudkip/pseuds/SarcasticMudkip
Summary: An ask on tumblr concerning the *unconvential* uses of the Master Sword in Botw gives way to my interpretation for how Link uses his trusty, sacred blade... (SPOILER ALERT: He's a himbo)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	The Master Sword Has Many Uses...

**Author's Note:**

> lalalemon-tarts asked - "link but like,,,, himbo who just uses the master sword to chop up veggies for stews and whatever else he cooks. link with lil bandages on his fingers from the slip of a hyrulian mushroom. his excuse is something alpng the lines of "if it's good enough for sealing the darkness away away then it's good enough for my swift carrots"
> 
> \- - - - - 
> 
> But this is basically how I play botw anyway…
> 
> *smashes a pot* You should be grateful your existence was ended by this sacred blade!!
> 
> *uses sword laserbeam to knock down palm fruit* YEET
> 
> Also this ask made me laugh because now I just love the thought of having a nice cozy scene by a campfire…and then… Well.

Perhaps we’re Snowfield Stable, with flurries drifting through the air that settle in on the wool and leather of garments and worn saddles. As white and fragile as porcelain, the snow snugs into the tufts of hair of horses and travelers alike. The night is cold and cloudy, with the graying road melding with a barren horizon, only occasionally cracked with the frail limbs of forgotten trees. 

Yet the scene is quiet and cozy, the spiraling figure of smoke dances in the air. Humming to himself, at the edge of a metal wok, Link is making a warm stew. Meat sizzles, wood crackles, wind whispers in his ear. The aroma and sounds meander through the air. 

Eventually, another traveler leads his horse by the fire, eyes sunken and lips chapped from a frigid world. He simply sits by the fire, mostly silent and unconcerned, but after a moment notices the proportion of the large pot next to the boy. The traveler jokingly asks if Link means to share the stew with a Grizzlemaw Bear. 

Link laughs along with him, before saying that he underestimates his appetite. Nonetheless, the boy offers him a serving when he’s finished cooking. The traveler’s eyes twinkle for a moment. Getting up, he fiddles with the satchel attached to his horse’s back, taking out a bundle of cloth and handing it to Link. Unwrapping it, he finds that the traveler had just given him a few swift carrots, which almost certainly would have been fresh, if it weren’t for the current climate. 

Well, there was nothing a wooden spoon and a searing flame couldn’t fix. 

Link nods in understanding. The man mumbles something about how if he doesn’t use all the carrots in his stew, he can give the extras back to him. However, he can’t quite hear him clearly, his voice muffled as he continues searching through his satchel. 

Finally, the traveler’s hand emerges from the pack with a pan flute in hand. It was an old and homemade thing, an instrument in desperate need of repair. Despite this, the man plays a calming tune which is only _slightly_ off tune. 

And so the night carries on, a melody in the air. Link takes the time to choose the best carrots for his stew, before handing the extras back towards the man. 

Link prepares to add the ingredients.

With a gleam in his eye (and a matching gleam of his blade) he unsheathes the sword on his back. The chilling sound of metal echoes in the air with a _SHING,_ startling the man, who accidentally leaves his pan flute with a cold fate to the snow below. 

“What the hell are you—”

Before another word escapes him, Link dramatically throws the carrots into the air, one foot even stomping into the snow with a _CRUNCH_ as he propels the momentum.

“HYAH!”

One blink, or maybe even two blinks later, Link takes his sword in hand and delivers a flurry of attacks into the air. From a distance, one might assume he was having a climactic battle with a ghost, especially when watching the fire and life that danced in his eyes. 

After a moment, he suddenly stopped, before once more sheathing his sword with a fluid motion. A second of silence and stillness passed, before it started to rain orange.

The carrot slices were chopped in a variety of shapes and sizes, although it was safe to say that they were _not_ intact. While some fell directly into the stew, most of the pieces flop pathetically onto the frozen ground.

Then, the night resumed, albeit, more silent and with a new charge of bewilderment ringing through the air. Link bent down into the snow, starting to pick up the carrot slices that were nestled into the white earth. He even starts humming as if nothing was wrong. 

This doesn’t stop the traveler from sputtering out accusations, as just two blinks ago he feared for his life. 

“..A-are…wha…” He sits there speechless and confused for another moment. “Were…w-were you _attacking_ my carrots??”

Link shrugs. “It’s the only way I can cut things.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless plug, but I'm way more active with my shitposts on @botwstoriesandsuch on tumblr! So if you're a lonely fellow like me, I've got a loose ear for botw blabber! :D


End file.
